Past Perfect
by TBAChikita
Summary: Catherine sees a photo from Sara's locker, and learns about Sara's past before Las Vegas
1. Who are you?

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here. Please don't sue my sorry butt.  
  
Ch.1  
  
"Warrick, I hate to ask you this again, but could you watch Linds' a while? I have to go with Brass on a run, the babysitter canceled on me, and . . ." Catherine sighed, exasperated.  
  
"Sure. No problem. I'm just finishing up some paperwork." Warrick set his mug down, and pushed his chair away from the break room table.  
  
"Thanks. I really appreciate this. You were my last hope." She smiled at him appreciatively.  
  
Sara winced at this last sentence as she sat silently across from the two of them. She wasn't sure why the statement offended her, but it did. She wasn't even an option. When it came to kids, the rest of the night crew seemed to think Sara was some sort of ogre, despite the fact that she had shown on several cases her ability to deal with them just fine. Sara stood, pushed in her chair, and left the room without receiving or giving so much as a nod. She made her way to the locker room to retrieve her bag, pausing to look at the photo taped carefully inside the locker door. The beaming smile of a little girl stared back at her from a happier time. Sara pulled the photo down, and absentmindedly caressed the image.  
  
"Hey. That your niece?"  
  
Catherine had managed to come up from nowhere.  
  
"No." Sara shoved the photo into her bag, and left the room and Catherine behind her.  
  
Catherine's eyebrows shot up as her colleague rushed past. What was that all about? Catherine wasn't one to enjoy a mystery. Curiosity demanded answers. Who was the child in the photo? Was their workaholic Sara thinking about adopting a kid? Catherine certainly hoped not, considering the hours Sara kept. She shook her head, and walked out to meet up with Warrick in the parking lot.  
  
"Hey, Warrick? Does Sara have any brothers or sisters?" Catherine handed Warrick the key to her place as she spoke.  
  
"She has a brother I think. Why don't you ask her?" He snagged the keys, and headed for his own car.  
  
"She had a picture of a little girl in the locker room, and she hid it when I asked her about it. Kind of weird don't you think?"  
  
"Could be anybody, Cath. I've learned with Sara that it's best just to ask her if there's something you want to know. She won't tell otherwise." Warrick winked, and got in his car.  
  
===  
  
Sara walked out of her apartment building into a light misting of rain. From the dark clouds rolling in, she could tell it would be pouring within the hour. She decided to walk anyways. It felt good to feel the dampness against her burning cheeks. The cool rain seemed to somewhat sooth the sting of her drying tears. Tomorrow would make five years exactly. Five years she'd been without Lori. If she closed her eyes she could hear, see, and smell the jubilant little life that had been her daughter. She stared straight ahead as she walked towards the common park that separated her apartment complex from the sprawling suburbs. She was quite certain she looked like a fool walking slowly in the now pouring rain. Taking a seat on a park bench, she looked skyward, letting the rain wash over her. She ran a hand over her face to wipe her soaked hair away from her eyes.  
  
"Sara?'  
  
"Damnit!" Sara jumped.  
  
"Sorry." Catherine and Brass stood beneath an umbrella looking quite concerned.  
  
"Is your crime scene in the park?" Sara knew she probably looked nuts sitting alone in a park in the pouring rain, but she really didn't care.  
  
"'Bout a mile up the road in the burbs." Brass grinned. "What? The shower at your place broken?"  
  
Sara gave him a small smile.  
  
"I just needed to go for a walk. It actually feels nice." She hoped her answer would satisfy them. Brass, at least, seemed to accept it.  
  
"Hey, Brass? I'll catch up with you in a sec, ok?" Catherine gave him a glare that told him to shove off.  
  
"Sure. Here." He handed flipped his collar up tight, and handed Catherine the umbrella before walking back to his car alone.  
  
Catherine took a seat next to Sara.  
  
"You wanna talk about it?" Catherine held the umbrella over them both.  
  
"Not really. I'm fine. Just pulled too many doubles this week."  
  
"Right." Catherine wasn't buying it, but wasn't sure if she should press the matter. Sara could get on her nerves, but she didn't dislike her. "Who was that little girl in the photo?" Catherine hoped Warrick was right about how to get information from Sara.  
  
Sara took a few deep breaths. After several more moments of silence, Catherine feared she had broached a subject that was off limits.  
  
"I don't want to end up as a good piece of gossip for the locker room." Sara bit her lower lip, trying to keep back tears. She hated crying alone, and certainly didn't relish the prospect of having Catherine see her break down. Grissom had been the only one she had ever cried openly in front of.  
  
"I like to dish as well as the next gal, but I can also keep a secret." Catherine noted that Sara was shivering. She picked up her cell phone. "Hey, Jim? . . .Yeah. That'd be great." She closed it again, and tucked it back in her jacket. "You wanna grab a coffee across the street?"  
  
Sara looked straight ahead.  
  
"Sure." Sara stood, and headed towards the café with Catherine walking close behind. They got a small booth in the corner away from the windows, and each ordered a tall coffee.  
  
"Grissom and I stopped here once after a case." Sara remembered that time warmly. It had been back before things had gone sour between the two of them.  
  
Catherine nodded. She wondered if Grissom even noticed how pale Sara seemed to have gotten over the past few months.  
  
Sara pulled something from her jacket, and handed it to Catherine across the table. Catherine recognized the picture from the locker room.  
  
"She's a beautiful little girl." Catherine smiled. The child had a wide grin on her face, light hair, and piercing dark eyes. If she had been a brunette, Catherine would have sworn it was a picture of Sara as a child. "Who is she?"  
  
"My daughter." Sara's voice cracked as she spoke.  
  
Catherine's eye shot up.  
  
"Your daughter?" She couldn't believe it. "Where is she? Did her father get custody?" Catherine couldn't quite wrap her mind around the thought of Sara Sidle as anyone's mother. She had always given the impression that she didn't like kids.  
  
"She died about five years ago." Sara stated it matter-of-factly, but she hadn't actually spoken these words before to anyone. She wasn't sure she felt right saying them now to someone she'd only shared a few beers, and a working relationship with. She thought she'd tell Grissom some day if the time was right.  
  
Catherine felt like she'd been smacked. She wasn't sure what to say for once. She couldn't imagine losing her own daughter. Sara's words to her after Eddie's death rang in her mind. 'Go home Cat. Your daughter needs you there.'  
  
"I'm so sorry, Sara. What happened?" Catherine couldn't help it as she felt tears threaten to fall.  
  
Sara cleared her throat. She wasn't sure if it was the rain, or her emotions that caused the scratching feeling in the back of her throat.  
  
"Lori was at daycare. She'd just turned five the day before. I was at work as usual. My folks always said they'd take care of her, but I insisted on something more structured where she could learn, and be around other kids." Sara winced at the guilt that was still so raw. She took another deep breath. "I got the call while I was working at the coroner's office." Sara shook her head.  
  
Catherine wanted to comfort her, to say something, but she could tell Sara needed to get the story out.  
  
"They said she was out in the play yard with all the others one minute. The next she was gone. She was taken right from under their noses." Sara's voice broke. She sobbed, wiping her face with her napkin. "They wouldn't let me near the case." She nearly hissed the words, the resentment still very evident. "All I could do was wait. Days. I waited days for anything. A ransom letter, a phone call, anything. I had to wait a week till they found her."  
  
Catherine handed Sara a tissue from her jacket. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Never in a million years would she ever have suspected this, but then, what did any of them really know about Sara? Other than her hours and her somewhat strained relationship with Grissom lately.  
  
"She was beaten up so bad." Sara covered her face with her hands. "They. . .hurt her." She couldn't bring herself to say the words. "She was in a coma for three weeks. I was with her every day. I honestly expected her to wake up every single one of those days until she passed away."  
  
"Sara, I'm so sorry. Here." She put down money for their bill, and stood. "Let's get out of here."  
  
Sara nodded, wiped her eyes, and followed her out. Catherine wished she had some magical words to say that could make everything better, but this was beyond her realm of experience. She could only imagine the horror of losing a child. Having almost lost Lindsey, she couldn't imagine life without her. No wonder Sara kept everyone at arms length.  
  
"Does Grissom know?" Catherine asked.  
  
"No. I don't know that he would know how to process this. It's not a bug, and he can't fix it."  
  
Catherine wasn't about to argue that point. Still, she knew Grissom would want to know. Despite the wall these two seemed to have thrown up the past year, Catherine knew there was still something there between them.  
  
"Did they ever catch who kidnapped her?"  
  
"No. It's a cold case back in Frisco." Sara stopped outside her building. "Cat, thanks. . .for letting me spill my guts."  
  
"No, no. I'm glad you did. I can't imagine holding that in all these years." Catherine looked around suddenly aware that she had no mode of transportation.  
  
"You need a ride back?" Sara noticed the look.  
  
"You sure? I could stay if you want."  
  
"Thanks, but I'll be fine. And I'm guessing you'll need to rescue Warrick by now." Sara gave a half-hearted grin as they walked to her car. 


	2. My inner child can beat up your inner ch...

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here. Please don't sue my sorry butt.  
  
A/N: Spoilers for 'No More Bets'  
  
Ch.2  
  
Catherine took a breath, and made sure her eyes were dry before entering her home. All she wanted to do was give Lindsey a huge hug. She couldn't get the conversation she had with Sara out of her head. Sara was a mother? And, not only that, she had suffered the worst kind of loss Catherine could imagine. As she was about to enter, the door flew open causing her to jump.  
  
"Hey, Catherine. Thought I heard your car." Warrick smiled down at her. "Tough case?"  
  
"The worst." Catherine smiled, and looked past him at her daughter. "How was she?"  
  
"Good! I had to watch the Parent Trap and Freaky Friday though. You owe me!"  
  
"Deal. Thanks again." She gave him a hug as he left, and grinned at the sight of Lindsey playing her gameboy.  
  
"Hi, Hon. Sorry I'm late again." She gave her daughter a big hug, causing them both to giggle. "What do you want for lunch?" Catherine knew she should drop Lindsey off at her sister's, and get some sleep before her date tonight. She just couldn't today. Besides, she'd just take a nap, and deal with being a little groggy.  
  
"Pizza!" Lindsey knew her mom didn't have lunch with her very often.  
  
"Pizza? For lunch?" She smiled at the vigorously nodding head of her daughter. "Ok, then. Pizza it is, but you're having something healthy for dinner." She laughed at the look that comment evoked. She hugged Lindsey again for good measure before getting a shower. It suddenly occurred to Catherine that Sara's little girl would have been the same age as Lindsey this year.  
  
===  
  
Sara entered the locker room after the night's shift, and was relieved to find it empty. She rolled her eyes at a mess someone from day shift had left behind. She set her duffle bag down on the bench in front of the long row of lockers, and started picking things up.  
  
"Geez, Sara. I'd leave that so Grissom sees it, if I were you. Let the Day guys catch some flack for once." Nick grinned from the doorway.  
  
"Why's everybody have to sneak up on me this week?" Sara tried to sound humorous, but her mood was too far down. Sara yawned. She hadn't slept well the past week.  
  
"Greg made a fresh pot of coffee. You see Warrick around?" Nick unlocked his locker, pulled an envelope from his bag, and jammed the bag inside before cramming it closed again.  
  
"Nope. Haven't seen him. Is Grissom in yet?"  
  
"I saw him earlier. I think Catherine was looking for him too."  
  
Nick grinned as Sara's eyebrows shot up. He assumed it was a spot of jealousy as she made a hasty exit. Halfway down the hall, Sara realized she'd forgotten to leave her firearm and her ID in her locker. She noticed Nick slumped over a letter looking upset.  
  
"Hey. Anything wrong?" Sara pulled her holster off her belt, and placed it in the locker.  
  
Sara tied to keep her features calm and happy for Nick as she screamed inwardly. She could hear herself congratulating Nick. She thought she actually sounded genuinely happy for him, and on some level she was, but learning that Grissom recommended Nick over her stung. The fact that the position was surreptitiously cut didn't help. As Nick left the room, she suddenly realized she had to find Catherine before Catherine found Grissom.  
  
"Hey! Catherine!" Sara caught sight of Catherine leaving the break room. She was dressed nice. Sara knew that Catherine had the night off.  
  
"Sara. Hi. Have you seen Grissom? I need to talk to him." Catherine was glad to see that Sara seemed to be doing better.  
  
"What about?"  
  
Catherine didn't like Sara's tone one bit.  
  
"It's about a case, Sara. Have you seen him or not?"  
  
"I haven't seen him." Sara sighed. She felt bad for acting paranoid.  
  
"Ok then. How ya feelin'?" She softened her tone. Sara wasn't going to magically change over night simply because she'd confided in her.  
  
"I'm fine. Just. . .a lot of stuff going on. I was going to take a few days off, but now I can't. Do I give off bad vibes or something? I mean, everybody else gets away with murder practically, and I can't even get a damn recommendation! I get called in at all hours, then he complains that I have no life! Oh, but Grissom's character is above reproach! He's Mr.Perfect–My poop doesn't stink-Grissom!" She stopped, and looked up at Catherine, surprised that Catherine was still standing there, and that she had just ranted openly at work. "I gotta go. I'll tell Grissom you're looking for him if I find him first."  
  
"Heaven help him if she does!" Catherine smirked to herself. She wanted so badly for those two to have a decent conversation. She was tired of acting as the occasional referee for the love-impaired duo. Grissom was her friend, but sometimes he infuriated her with his holier-than-thou attitude. 


	3. All Pretense

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here. Please don't sue my sorry butt. A/N: Spoilers for 'No More Bets' & 'Bloodlines'  
  
Ch.3  
  
Sara sat in her apartment, still fuming.  
  
'Because he didn't care if he got it? What the hell kind of explanation was that!' Sara took another long drink of her beer. Used to be all she stocked her fridge with was water and orange juice. Lately, more beer had crept in. Then, in a desire for a little change, a bottle of vodka and rum had managed to finagle their way into her cabinets.  
  
Sara walked to her computer, and pushed the space bar to wake it up. One of these days, she mused, she'd get a cable modem. Getting a decent dial up speed in the city was a bitch at best. She signed on, and opened up her e- mail. Nothing new. She reread the letter from her mom asking her to come home for the summer beach bum festival. The festival wasn't for another few months. She knew her mom had e-mailed her because of the date, and Lori. Sara drank down the rest of her beer, instantly craving the next. She thought about Catherine and Lindsey. Could Sara have held her career together as well being a single mom? She'd never know. She tried not to dwell on the visions of having long discussions with her little girl about the world, and science, and so many more topics she had dreamed of sharing with Lori when she was old enough to ask. She had hoped to get a house near the shore, and work less overtime.  
  
Sara reached in her fridge for another beer amidst a blur of tears. She flinched as her phone rang. Whoever it was could leave a message. At least then her machine would get some use. She sat down on the edge of her desk as the machine clicked on.  
  
"Sara? It's Nick. I know this whole promotion thing's been a drag, and all. How 'bout you meet me and Warrick down at the strip for a cold one? I'd really like you to be there. 'Be like old times. Whatta ya say?"  
  
Sara grinned, and picked up the receiver.  
  
"Hey. I'm in. Where and when?"  
  
===  
  
The officer led Sara into the all-too-familiar waiting area in the police headquarters. How many times had she sat in these same seats with a victim or suspect? Now here she was, alone, and waiting for whatever hammer was going to fall. The cops had been very kind to her. Professional courtesy. Then a very nice young lieutenant explained he had to go call her supervisor. That was protocol. Great. Sara stared straight ahead. This was it. This was how her life was ending. Alone, disgraced, and somewhat less drunk than she would have chosen to enter oblivion. She tensed up at the sound of Grissom speaking with the officer in the hall. Here it comes.  
  
She felt rather than saw him come closer, and take the seat next to her. It was what happened next that caused her heart to break. Grissom gently reached over, taking her hand in his, and spoke.  
  
"C'mon. . .I'll take you home."  
  
Sara's head sunk down against her chest. His words were so calming, and gentle, but his presence was painful to her still. He gingerly put an arm around Sara to help her up.  
  
"I'm fine, Grissom. I. . ." She looked down at the ground, but didn't brush his arm away as he led her out of the station, and into his car.  
  
The ride back to Sara's apartment was silent. She laid her head against the cool glass of the window, and closed her eyes. It vaguely occurred to her that Grissom was taking her home without the need for directions, but she shrugged it off. By the time they pulled into her complex she was asleep.  
  
"Sara? Honey? Wake up. We're here." Grissom stooped down beside her with the car door flung wide open. Sara barely stirred. Hers was the deep sleep of alcohol and exhaustion. "Ok."  
  
Grissom looked around sheepishly then carefully slid an arm under her to ease her out of the passenger seat. She was light. Too light he thought. He studied her face as he heaved her into his arms. She was so pale. No longer fair and fresh like she had always seemed to him back when he used to indulge in closer inspection of her features. A pain of guilt and fear hit him hard as they made their way up to her apartment. He pulled the keys the officer had given him at the station out, and fumbled for the correct one to unlock her door. The door swung open easily. He looked around quickly, and was surprised to be in a small studio apartment. The bed was in the same room as the rest of her furniture. He made his way over, and gently laid her down. Working her shoes off, he pulled back the covers, and scooted her under them carefully.  
  
"What happened?" He couldn't help the words from falling from his lips. He felt he was on some level to blame for all this, and it pained him. He used to dream of taking Sara home, but never like this. This was more akin to a nightmare. Making his way to the small kitchen, he searched and found her coffee supplies. He opened her fridge, and was stunned by the amount of beer bottles. When had this started? He was certain Sara hadn't been a heavy drinker. He couldn't believe something of this magnitude could go on without his knowledge. This thought train made his head throb. He started a fresh pot of coffee, and sat down on her chair across from the bed. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.  
  
===  
  
Sara's eyes felt like lead weights as she tried to blink them open. She slowly sat up in bed. . .wait. . .how did she get in bed? Fully clothed? Suddenly very much awake, Sara surveyed her apartment. Her eyes widened at the sight of Grissom seated in her chair, head tilted awkwardly to the side, fast asleep. The memory of the previous night dawned on her, and her stomach suddenly felt very nauseous. Her brain slowly began processing the evidence. Grissom had come to the station. He had taken her home. He was sitting across from her bed as she slept. He was still here. Sara eased herself out of bed. Her head had a dull throb that was steadily getting louder as she moved.  
  
"Gris? Grissom?" She gently nudged his shoulder. She couldn't help smiling as she watched him wake up. He twitched a little, stretched, licked his lips, and smiled as his eyes fluttered open. Then he flew up out of his chair as if shocked.  
  
"Whoa!" Sara jumped back.  
  
"Sorry. Unfamiliar environment." Grissom's face began to take on a rather crimson hue.  
  
"Thanks for taking me home." She wasn't sure what else to say. She was certain that Grissom had several hours of lectures prepared for her, but she was ready to face it. She wasn't sure she cared anymore about getting in trouble, or what everyone else thought about her. Everyone else was wrong. None of them knew her. Not even Grissom.  
  
"How are you feeling?" He stood very close to her as he spoke, and his eyes showed genuine concern.  
  
"Like I swallowed a roto-router." She looked towards the full coffee pot in her kitchen, and grinned. He must have made that last night.  
  
"Sara." He tried to formulate his sentences just right. "Hon', we need to talk."  
  
Sara's heart sank. Never in her entire history had anything good ever come from the phrase 'We need to talk.' Grissom noted her forlorn expression, and tried to think of what to say next to erase it.  
  
"I want you to take some of that vacation. Two weeks, Sara. I'd like you to take it as vacation time, but if you refuse, it's administrative leave." He regretted the fact that his words sounded very much like 'supervisor' Grissom, and not 'friend' Grissom.  
  
Sara paced like a caged cat. How much trouble was she in?  
  
"Grissom, it's not going to happen again. I know it was stupid. I know that."  
  
"This isn't about last night. Not completely anyway. You're way overdue, Sara. I'm worried."  
  
"What? That I'll screw up on a case? When have I ever compromised a case? Never! So I didn't do a single interview! Nobody else does as many as I do. Nick sure doesn't. He doesn't have my solve rate either. Not even close!" Sara's voice was rising, and her head was throbbing harder. She could feel the room suddenly begin to spin, as her rug felt like it was trying to swallow her alive.  
  
"Sara?" Grissom rushed forward just in time to catch her as she passed out. "Damnit!" He eased them both down to the floor, and cursed himself silently. He wasn't helping matters. He was making them worse. As her eyes batted open again, she looked up into Grissom's face, and the tears that she had held in from the night before let loose in a flood that frightened her. She held onto him for dear life, as he cradled her in his arms.  
  
"Shhh. It's alright. I'm so sorry, Sara. What can I do? How can I help you?" His shirt was now damp, but he didn't care. He sighed. She has been dealing with so much, and hurting for so long, and he had been caught up in his own fears. "Sara, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here."  
  
"It hurts so much." She sobbed into his shirt. "I'm so tired, Grissom. I'm so damn tired."  
  
"I know, Honey. We're going to be ok, alright? I'm not letting you go through anything else alone. Whatever it is. Please let me help you." He could feel his own eyes watering. He held on tight. However hard it would be, however much it hurt, he was hers. He wouldn't let fear come between them any longer. 


	4. waking

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here. Please don't sue my sorry butt.  
  
Ch.4  
  
Grissom eased his cell phone out of his coat pocket, and flipped it open.  
  
"Catherine? Yeah. I need you to take charge of shift tonight."  
  
Catherine looked at her phone as if she expected a springing plastic snake to pop out. She got up from her couch, and headed for her calendar to see if her sister was available that night. So much for two full days off.  
  
"You feeling ok?" She had never known Grissom to take time off other than for his operation.  
  
"I've got something I need to take care of."  
  
Catherine heard sobbing in the background.  
  
"How is she? Is she ok?" Catherine prayed the answer was yes.  
  
Grissom was a bit reluctant to answer. He wondered how much Catherine knew that he didn't.  
  
"I hope so." He sighed. "Thanks, Cath." He hung up, and slipped his phone back into his pocket.  
  
"Grissom, I'm so sorry." Sara hid her head against him, unable to look him in the eyes yet.  
  
"Shhh. It's ok. You don't need to be sorry. We do need to talk about this though." He reached down, and gently raised her chin so she was looking at him.  
  
"I know. It's just so many things went wrong all at once, and I thought I could take it." She took a deep breath. "I just can't anymore. I couldn't sleep, so I started having a few beers before bedtime. It seemed to help. That's all it was at first, I swear."  
  
She was still trying to defend herself, and that bothered Grissom. He didn't want her to feel like she was on trial.  
  
"Sara, I'm not blaming you, but we need to get you some help for this. I promise I'll be there for you, but you have to work with me."  
  
"You think I'm an alcoholic?" Sara's mouth nearly dropped open at the accusation. "Grissom, I don't drink all the time. I just have more lately to take the edge off. What, did Brass tell you or something?" She was suddenly angry again.  
  
"Brass? No, what does he have to do with this?" Had she been caught before, and Brass covered for her?  
  
Sara rose slowly, and sat down on the end of her bed.  
  
"Sara, I just need to know why? I want to help fix this. Please let me help you." He looked at her with pleading eyes. He had never wanted anyone to see his point of view more in his entire life.  
  
"Grissom. . ." Sara got up, and went to her nightstand to retrieve a photo from the drawer. The photo was bent, and showed signs of wear around the edges. She handed him the photo, and sat back down. "Catherine knows."  
  
Grissom examined the picture of the little girl carefully. He was confused. His mind was full of questions, but no answers seemed obvious.  
  
"Was she a case of yours?"  
  
"No, Grissom, she was mine. Her name is Lori. She would have been ten this past week." Sara tried to read his expression. Her words seemed to take several minutes to fully sink in. His breathing became shallow, and he kneaded the bridge of his nose furiously.  
  
"Sara, I'm not sure what to say." He got up, walked over to the side of the bed, and knelt down beside her, taking her in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Honey."  
  
Grissom felt like he'd just placed the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle. Suddenly, Sara's reaction to certain cases, her reluctance to be around children, her fierceness towards those who hurt people weaker than themselves all seemed to fit in place. How could she have held this in all these years? How could he not know about this? He had met her in college for the first time. He had befriended her in San Francisco during a case involving bugs where he had become completely impressed with her deductive skills. They had even shared drinks, but it had never occurred to him to inquire about children. Grissom realized his lack of people skills had failed him once again.  
  
"She was such a great kid. She was already starting to read, and could write her name, and mine." Sara trailed off.  
  
Grissom had no point of reference for how to deal with this. He had been the bearer of bad news many times to families, but he was never the one to give them comfort. He did the only thing he knew how. He held her in his arms, gently rocking them both. He wondered who the father had been, but asking such a question now was not an option. It didn't really matter to him now. All he wanted was to protect her from ever feeling such pain again. In truth, he wasn't sure how anyone could do that.  
  
"Sara, I'm so sorry. I'm not sure how to do this."  
  
Sara frowned. What did he mean?  
  
"Grissom, I don't expect you to do anything. I know things have been weird between us. I guess I got the wrong idea. I thought you felt the same way I did."  
  
Grissom winced at the use of the word 'did.' Was he too late? His chest tightened at the thought.  
  
"I do. It just felt too complicated. I'm still your supervisor. I know now that was a cop out. I wasn't sure I could do it."  
  
"You couldn't do it. . ." Sara repeated his words from months before during the interrogation for the Debbie Marlin case. She shook her head.  
  
"Not 'can't' Sara, 'couldn't'. Two very separate words." He reached up to brush the damp hair from her cheek. "I want to try to be there for you. I don't want to lose you, and I can't stand seeing you do this alone."  
  
Sara couldn't believe his words. After so long, and so much pain. She wanted to just let go, and believe in this.  
  
"It's going to take some time." She reached for the picture of Lori that Grissom still held.  
  
"Where is she buried?"  
  
Sara was thrown off by the surprising question.  
  
"Near my old hometown back near Tamales Bay. I send flowers there every year on her birthday and at Christmas."  
  
"You've not been home once since coming to Vegas, have you?" He couldn't believe he'd never noted this before.  
  
"No." Sara felt the shame of the fact hit home. "I couldn't go back. Not yet."  
  
"Maybe it's time you did. Just for a week or two."  
  
"So I won't burn out right?" Sara exhaled. She was tired again.  
  
"To hell with the labs! I don't want to lose you!" Grissom was suddenly more adamant than Sara had seen him in years. He stood up straight. He was serious, and Sara wasn't about to make light of the matter. Passion was not something Grissom displayed freely. To witness it was rare. For it to be because of her was more important than any apology.  
  
"You won't. I'll go." She grabbed his hand, and squeezed it tight.  
  
"I could go with you to the cemetery if you'd like?" He spoke softly, unsure if he had made an improper offer.  
  
"I think I'd better go alone. I know this sounds crazy, but she didn't know you. I want some time alone there."  
  
Grissom nodded, and leaned in to kiss Sara's forehead. It was sweet and unexpected, and it was exactly the gesture she needed.  
  
"Get some rest. Your two weeks starts tonight. I'll cover for you. Do you need anything from the labs?"  
  
"No. I've got all I need." She smiled weakly at him as he headed for the door. "Grissom?"  
  
"Yes?" He turned half in the hall, half in her apartment.  
  
"I. . .thank you." She smiled. He nodded his understanding before closing the door. 


	5. Goin' Home

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here. Please don't sue my sorry butt.  
  
Ch.5  
  
Sara drove past the cemetery gates, and parked in the first available spot. A funeral service was being observed on the far end of the lot. Flowers were draped across limousines, and a large crowd of dark-clothed mourners shuffled here and there. Sara was glad that they were on the opposite side of the cemetery. She got out of her car, and grabbed the bunch of flowers, and the toy lion Lori had always carried. No one saw her walk past the rows of plots back to a corner with a stone bench, and fruit tree nearby. It was peaceful and serene. She took the plastic wrapping off the flowers, and placed them in the built-in vase atop the tombstone. She placed the toy lion at the base.  
  
"Hi, kiddo. Sorry it took me so long." Sara knelt down in front of the granite stone. "I've missed you so much." Her voice caught in her throat, and the painful pressure began to build again in her temple. She stared at the engraved stone. 'Lori Ann Sidle – 1994-1999 – Beloved Daughter.'  
  
"Honey, she knows."  
  
Sara looked up to see her mother standing behind the tombstone. She was dressed in a black dress, and hat.  
  
"Mom? What are you doing here?" She wiped her eyes, and stood on shaky legs.  
  
"Our next-door-neighbor died last week. Figured I'd pay my respects even if she was a mean old thing." Sadie Sidle took her daughter by the arm to help her step around the grave. She had paid her respects earlier as well. "We didn't know you were coming. Were you even going to stop by? I made hummus!" Mrs. Sidle grinned, trying to comfort her daughter in small ways. She was caught up in the serendipity of the moment. Sara was always far more of an adult than she ever would be. She used to bemoan the fact that Sara was an 'old soul.' A thought that irritated Sara's sensibility to no end.  
  
"Actually, I'm in town for a few weeks, if you can spare the room." Sara gave her mom a quick hug and they made their way back towards the parking lot.  
  
"That's fantastic! Your father will be so happy. He's wanted to send a search party out after you."  
  
Sara grinned. She loved her parents even if they didn't ever seem to see things on the same level. Her folks lived in the astral plain of new-age weirdness, while she preferred science. Still, she had learned a healthy respect for the unknown from them. A fact that always got her teased in her line of work. Most notably when she almost convinced Warrick of the existence of spontaneous human combustion.  
  
"Where is Dad?" Sara pointed towards her Civic, and the two Sidle women headed towards town.  
  
"Your father's at an estate auction. He phoned me just before I got here whooping it up over a canoe."  
  
"A canoe? Not a kayak?" Sara couldn't help but laugh at her absentminded father.  
  
"Yup! A canoe! That's great, John. Just exactly what the Inn needs. I mean, sooooo many guests enquire about taking a nice leisurely canoe ride out in the OCEAN!" They both laughed. "I'll cut it in half, and make a couple of book shelves out of it. Saw that on Martha." Sadie smiled, and watched the familiar scenes fly by.  
  
A few years back, her folks were on the verge of a divorce. They got together, and decided they were going to go take a class on marriage development at the local college. When they got there, Sadie ended up signing up for wood-crafting, and John took a course in small business management. Their marriage has never been better.  
  
Sara smiled as the old bed and breakfast came into view down the road. She could feel the breeze off of the ocean, and was surprised at how nostalgic she was feeling. The memories were bitter-sweet. There were the wonderful, happier times spent raising Lori. Her own little happy mistake. Never, ever would she allow anyone to let Lori feel like a mistake. Sara had just moved back home after Harvard to take a job at the Coroner's office in San Francisco. She was still in Grad school when she found out she was pregnant. Despite the difficulties, she was able to secure her Masters degree with a one-year-old child and a part-time-job with the help of her parents. Lori's father was the only mistake. He was a charmer; a handsome TA in her physics lab. He promised the moon to get what he wanted. He didn't want a pregnant girlfriend, or a child. After his degree was in hand, he left for the East coast never to contact Sara again.  
  
Sara sighed deeply as she pulled into the lot for the inn.  
  
"Did you bring many bags?" Sadie looked into the back seat.  
  
"I have a few bags in the trunk, but I figured I'd actually get some new things while I'm in town."  
  
"Well good! There's new flea market down by the bay that your aunts swear by." Mts. Sidle inspected her daughter's features as Sara popped her trunk. She looked more worn down than she'd ever seen her. "Hon, Let me make you some tea. We've got plenty of time to talk, and see the town."  
  
Sara agreed. She was beat. She pulled her cell phone out. She'd promised Grissom she'd call him after she arrived. She smiled at the concern he had shown. How could one heart feel so many different things at once?  
  
"I'll be right in, Mom. Gotta make quick call."  
  
Mrs. Sidle grinned broadly.  
  
"Tell him your mother says hello." She gave her a quick wink, and headed inside.  
  
Sara shook her head, but was pleased. Sadie Sidle knew that it had been some one that had given Sara the push she needed to come home again, and she hoped someday to thank him in person.  
  
"Hello!" Grissom's friendly, informal answer caught Sara off guard.  
  
"Hi. Just called to let you know I'm here. Safe, sane, and not entirely sorry I came." She could swear she heard him smile on the other end.  
  
"I'm glad. Have a nice time, Hon." Grissom bit down on his lower lip, having not intended to speak the term of endearment. It had just slipped out naturally.  
  
Sara didn't miss this fact. She beamed.  
  
"I will." She hung up, and walked towards the back entrance. Sadie watched her from the kitchen window, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 


	6. Replay

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here. Please don't sue my sorry butt.  
  
Ch.6  
  
"So? Am I gonna get the dish, or a lecture on how gossip is wrong?" Mrs. Sidle met Sara at the back entrance as she slung an overnight bag over her shoulder.  
  
"Gossip IS wrong, and he's a friend from work."  
  
"Aren't all your friends from work? Why is this one so concerned that you get here in one piece? How many pieces has he seen?" Sadie grinned at the mild shock on her daughter's face.  
  
"MOM!!!" Sara couldn't help laughing, but was certainly not going to go there.  
  
"Oh, please. Honey, I love ya. You know that, right? But you have GOT to learn to loosen up, or one of these days you're going to implode. You take yourself and everything around you way too seriously."  
  
Sara rolled her eyes. She knew this lecture by heart.  
  
"I have a serious job."  
  
"Exactly! That's just the reason you've gotta chill. You really worry me, ya know that? And, not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but what gives? It's been almost five years."  
  
"Later, ok?"  
  
"I will get it out of you. Either that, or I'll call your Aunt Versa." Sadie gave Sara an evil grin.  
  
"No! That's so not fair! That woman creeps me out." Sara groaned, and made her way into the Inn's large kitchen.  
  
Sadie laughed. Last time Versa saw Sara, she went on and on about how Sara was the reincarnation of a passenger on the Titanic. It didn't matter that when Sara checked into it, oh and she had to, that the woman was a fictional character from the 1940's film version. Versa was convinced that Sara was bad luck, and then demanded to read her palm, to which Sara wisely declined.  
  
"Just let me settle in, Mom. I'll be here a few weeks. There's plenty of time to torture me in small doses." Sara lugged her bags up to her room on the third floor. The view out her window was one of the few things she missed about home. The ocean stretched out across the horizon, only blocked on one side by the edge of the bay. How many nights had she sat by the window watching the stars rise over that horizon? She dropped her bags on the bed, and flopped down next to them. Her parents hadn't changed a thing in her room since she'd left for college. Posters and science awards still hung on the walls. Her old clothes were probably still in the closet too. Sara leapt up, and threw open her closet door.  
  
"Mother load!" Sara pulled down an old, dusty box, and dropped it on the floor. She winced, realizing there could be guests in the rooms down below. As she rifled through the box of clothes, she gasped, and yanked out a faded t-shirt.  
  
"No way. I can't believe this is still here!" She held up her 'Lallapalooza 1991' shirt like it was a cherished artifact. In some ways, it was. That was the summer of her first real adventure. There was the hot August sun, the Great Woods amphitheatre filled to capacity, and Kyle Danvers, the first guy to kiss her without being doubled dog dared. They'd dated off and on while at Harvard. That year, however, things really heated up. He was the one who proudly gained Sara membership into the Mile High Club on Spring break to Florida. Over-rated as it had been, at the time it was the wildest thing she'd ever done. Sara tossed the shirt up onto her bed, and closed up the box.  
  
"Knock, knock!" John Sidle stood at the door, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"Hey, Dad!"  
  
John gave Sara a huge bear hug. Tall, lanky, and sporting a mustache, a parrot-head t-shirt, and flip-up sunglasses, John Sidle was your stereotypical old-hippy-man. When he had first met Sara's mom, a Kelly back then, he had been the poster boy for prep. Sadie had a way of changing those around her. Everyone but her daughter that is.  
  
"How've ya been, Einstein?" John playfully patted Sara's head; something she always complained about, but secretly grew fond of.  
  
"Busy." Sara sighed. "I hear we've got a canoe?"  
  
"Yup! A beauty too! Gary's cleaning it up down in the garage." He smirked.  
  
"Mom's planning on cutting it in two before you get a chance to drown yourself."  
  
"You women worry too much." He handed Sara a menu. "Chinese on me. Your mom's hummus works better as tub calk." He winked at her.  
  
"Oh really?" Sadie stood behind John with a hand on each hip, and a scowl all over her face.  
  
"Have I mentioned how tasty tub calk has gotten?" John smirked as Sara chuckled at her dad's predicament. Nobody liked being on Sadie's bad side.  
  
"I'm actually pretty tired. I was thinking of going down to the docks, and just watch the waves for a while. Any takers?"  
  
"We're in." Sadie smiled, and smacked John lightly on the behind. "John, grab some sodas from the fridge, and tell Gary he's got the evening off. We've only got two guests. Mary can handle it."  
  
"I had him working on my. . .ok. No problem." John scratched his head, figuring better than to push his luck.  
  
===  
  
Grissom sat at his desk looking over his paper work. His mind wasn't in it.  
  
"You've got it bad. Admit it, man." Catherine stood in his office door grinning. "You did good making her take some time off.  
  
"For the record, I didn't make her." He put his glasses back on.  
  
"Well, still, she was waaaay past due for some time off. I'm glad you two got your heads out of the sand long enough to actually talk to each other." Catherine took a seat across from Grissom. "I'm guessing she told you about Lori?"  
  
"Yes. She did. It explains a lot, I'm afraid."  
  
"Yeah. I just can't believe she held that in for so long. I couldn't." Catherine studied Grissom's face as he stared off into nothing. "So, what are you going to do about it?"  
  
"Do about what? She went back home for a few weeks to be with her parents."  
  
"Grissom, has she ever spoken to you about her family?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Does she ever talk to you about Nicky, Warrick or me?"  
  
"Not in a bad way." Grissom massaged the bridge of nose again as his temple began to throb once more.  
  
"We've become her surrogate family, Gil."  
  
"I've heard this one before, Cath. What's your point?"  
  
Catherine threw her hands in the air histrionically.  
  
"Go see her! Go after her, Gil. I mean it."  
  
Grissom cleared his throat, and adjusted his glasses again.  
  
"I really don't think that would be a good idea."  
  
"Grissom, she wants you to. Trust me. Go see her. Bring her some damn flowers. Just don't let her go off for two weeks to face this alone." Catherine shook her head. Some men were truly clueless.  
  
"I can't have both of us absent from the labs, Cath. That wouldn't look good."  
  
"Grissom, do you honestly think most people around here would notice if you're gone a few days as apposed to be out on a case for a few days? Quit arguing with me when you know I'm right. Go someplace you don't have to be led by a DNA swab for once"  
  
Having said her piece, Catherine got up, and left Grissom with a headache, and a plan. 


	7. Home

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here. Please don't sue my sorry butt.  
  
Ch.7  
  
Grissom loaded the last of his things into his car. Professor Eriksson had come through for him. He would be lecturing for two classes the following day just a short drive from Sara's hometown. Not many colleges turned down an opportunity for a free lecture from an entomologist with Grissom's credentials. Catherine was right. No one batted an eye at the notion of Gil Grissom going off to some college in California for a few days. Grissom smiled, and shook his head. Maybe life wasn't as complicated as he thought.  
  
As the sun rose, he rolled his windows down, turned the radio station to his favorite classic rock channel, and pulled out of his drive.  
  
===  
  
Sara stood at the edge of the water as it lapped at her toes. The slight chill felt exhilarating. She sat down with her knees pulled up tight to her chest. It felt odd being back. It was home, but it wasn't. She felt like she existed in a sort of habitation limbo; nowhere to truly call home. She didn't belong here anymore, if she ever had. She didn't quite feel like she fit in Vegas either. It was so close to the right thing, but there were the constant complications. Things with Grissom were taking a welcome change, but how long could it last? Where was it truly going? Sara felt the sudden urge for a beer and a cigarette. It's not like she had a problem, she just craved one occasionally. Sara didn't like the idea of being the victim of her own body's cravings. That loss of control was something she couldn't stomach.  
  
"No beer for you, Sidle." Sara mumbled to herself, and hugged herself tighter as the waves crashed in.  
  
The day hadn't been completely unpleasant. Sadie had lectured Sara about her love-life to the point of a brief shouting match, but that was nothing unusual. She loved her mother dearly, but to say they weren't close was an understatement. It was yet another part of her life that Sara felt was simply too complicated. To Sara, life needed to be explained, detailed, and resolved. To her parents, life had to be experienced; no matter how many lives it took. . .yet another issue Sara hated debating with her folks. Being in her old house -under her parent's roof- made her feel lost. Unsafe. That was how she felt. Without the security of her work, her friends, her daily routine, Sara felt unsettlingly unsafe. She wanted so badly to jump in her car, and barrel straight back to Las Vegas. She couldn't do that though. She had to at least try to face her past ghosts.  
  
Sara looked out across the now golden-hued waters. The sun was quickly setting. The breeze was catching a slight chill as night started to attach itself. Sara saw headlights come up the beach and stop at the edge of the drive to the B&B. As the car door opened, and she saw a man step out, her heart raced. At first, she thought her mind was playing tricks.  
  
"Grissom!" Sara yelled up the beach to him. The winds and waves drowned her out. She could tell he hadn't heard her as he made his way up the drive towards the house. Sara broke into a clumsy run across the beach. She reached the end of the driveway before he could get to the B&B's doors.  
  
"Gris?" Sara stood panting in front of him, smiling like a fool.  
  
Grissom returned the smile, placing a hand on her shoulder to give her some balance.  
  
"Are you ok?" He laughed.  
  
"Yeah. I was down the beach." She took a moment to catch her breath before continuing. "I wanted to catch you before you got hauled in for the interrogation of your life." She smiled broadly up at him, and hugged onto him before he had a chance to react.  
  
"I'm glad you did then." He smiled into her hair as he hugged her tighter to him. All worry that this had been a huge mistake faded from his mind. Sara took his hand, and led him down the beach, unwilling to share him with anyone else just yet.  
  
"I can't believe you actually came to see me." She took his arm as they walked, and held on.  
  
Grissom sighed, and smiled. He was walking on a deserted beach with Sara Sidle clinging to his arm. He leaned over and placed a kiss on the side of her head as she leaned into his shoulder. She stopped, and looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears.  
  
"Sara? What's wrong?"  
  
"Can we just sit out here for a while?" She motioned down towards the sand.  
  
"Sure."  
  
Grissom eased himself down onto the warm sand as Sara settled into his arms. She closed her eyes as the first few silent tears fell. She leaned in closer as if wanting to hold onto the moment for dear life. Grissom wrapped his arms around her while they watched the moon rise over the bay. Sara laid her head against his chest, and listened to his heart beating. She felt safe. Home wasn't a place she had to look for anymore. Home was a person. A man who, at the moment, had his arms wrapped protectively around her. 


End file.
